


Weevil derby

by Prawnperson



Category: Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists! (2012)
Genre: Crying, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, artistic liberties with the word quartermaster, yeah I don’t know either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: There aren’t many fics for this whole series.
Relationships: Pirate Captain/Pirate with a Scarf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Weevil derby

“Number two...”

The Captain doesn’t knock, doesn’t feel the need to do  
so anymore. As soon as he enters, he’s met with the sorry sight of the pirate with a scarf sitting on the windowsill of his cabin, chin resting on his knees, tucked against his own chest.

“Hello, Captain.”

He sounds so miserable, small and dejected. The ship sways on the calm water of the late afternoon. The sun is already beginning to tint the sky a soft peach colour, and it would be such a beautiful scene, if it weren’t for the downtrodden look on Scarf’s face.

“What’s the matter, number two? You ran off faster than-“

Before he can finish his analogy, the pirate with a scarf lets out an almost pained sound.

“Oh, Captain, I’m finished!”

“What?”

“I’m done! I can’t do this anymore...”

He presses the heels of his palms into his forehead, sighing so sharply that his breath whistles slightly. The Captain would laugh if he didn’t feel so hopeless.

Taking the long span of silence as an invitation to do something, the Captain sits down next to the curled up ball that is his second-in-command at present, and straightens his legs out to lay over his lap. The pirate with a scarf raises his head again, bringing himself in closer to rest his head on the Captain’s chest.

“Tell me about it, hm?”

He’s speaking to him the same way he speaks to Polly, and Scarf is fully aware of the fact, but he’s long since learned how to allow himself to enjoy it, and simply leans into the fingers being curled under his chin.

“The crew’s all furious with me just because I was trying to run the ship with an ounce of efficiency. I mean, do you think it’s a crime? To want to be left alone without people badgering you every two seconds?”

“Of course not, not at all.”

“All they’ve done today is pester me, and you know I haven’t been in the best mood for the past few days, thanks to all that horrible Bellamy nonsense...”

The Captain winces at the memory, sympathetically rubs just below Scarf’s knee.

“I was trying to be nice, and they wore me down! Playing weevil derby and fighting over the most ridiculous things and making a mess of the canons with all that glue paste-and, oh, if I here one more shanty-“

His annoyance is evident in the way he gesticulates, moving his hands so rapidly the Captain has to dodge to avoid getting hit up the nose.

“So, yes, I lost the bap and I shouted at them, and then they start acting like I’m the worst in the world! Like it’s such a crime for me to lose my patience when they were acting like a bunch of...of idiotic children!”

And with that, the pirate with a scarf bursts into tears

“Number two-“

The Captain’s attempts at comfort are interrupted by sobs that come out so quickly they squeak. 

“Come on now, don’t upset yourself.”

Without any encouragement, Scarf buries his face further into the Captain’s chest, and the Captain purposefully avoids making a comment about getting his shirt wet, because he’s fully aware that an attempted joke may not be the best for this current situation. Instead, he removes number two’s hat, places it very carefully beside them, and pulls him in closer until his arms are wrapped around him.

The Captain is not the best at dealing with logical situations, things that involve a lot of planning. He supposes that’s why he doesn’t feel awkward comforting his significant other. Only hurt.

The best he can do to comfort the pirate with a scarf is to rock him back and forth like a baby, and hush him in a way he hopes doesn’t seem condescending. Scarf takes in deep, shuddering breaths, small noises of upset rising from his throat every so often until finally, finally, his sobbing seems to stop.

“There we go...you’re alright...”

The pirate with a scarf pushes himself away a bit, and his face is immediately coloured with what could only be described as an ashamed flush.

“I’m so sorry, Captain. That was...terribly unprofessional.”

“So is kissing in the crow’s nest! Doesn’t stop us, does it?”

His face flushes even redder as the Captain brushes some of his tears away, knuckles resting impossibly gently against his cheek.

“I’ll shout at them, if you want.”

“You don’t have to, really, it would just upset everybody more...”

The Pirate Captain shrugs, as if the idea doesn’t faze him in the slightest, as if he’s willing to do anything for the pirate with a scarf like it’s nothing, and it’s in that moment that the quarter master feels the anxiety within his chest melt away into a sort of tender-hearted vulnerability.

It’s then that he makes the decision to kiss the other pirate, lips locking together in a gentle way, the scarf-wearing pirate wrapping his arms around his Captain’s neck and trying very hard not to laugh whenever his beard brushes against his chin in a ticklish fashion.

“Is that just because I said I’d shout at the crew?”

“No, just wanted to, darling.”

The Captain appears to be at a loss for words, slightly red faced, but only for a moment, for soon, he breaks into a mischievous little grin.

“You’re dropping your titles, number two. That’s a punishable offence, you know.”

“Punishable?”

“Oh, yes. In fact, you’re lucky I’m even giving you a warning.”

After a few moments of careful thought-he never was particularly good at picking up on cues like this-the pirate with a scarf raises his eyebrows slightly, seeming to have forgotten that he was upset in the first place.

“What exactly, Captain, is it punishable by?”

Wordlessly and deftly, the Pirate Captain pulls the second-in-command closer to him, pressing his mouth against the exposed portion of his neck and blowing a raspberry against the pale skin. The pirate with a scarf lets out a squeal of a giggle, kicks his legs out and struggles like a spider in a rainstorm. 

It’s only after what must be a minute of squirming and yelping that the Captain relents and pulls away. 

“That was not an answer!”

He finally gasps. He’s still slightly breathless, but less embarrassed and miserable than before, and as much as it pains him to admit it, he supposes this is living proof that the Captain’s often downright ridiculous approach to issues is almost always more successful than the logical ones. 

“Do you feel better now? Less like an oily bird?”

He nods, scrubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands, suddenly feeling very tired and rather calm, like some great deal of weight has just been taken off his chest.

“Yes, I do. Thank you.”

The quartermaster makes quick work of disentangling his legs with the Captain’s, shifting off to the side and sighing. 

The comforting scent of coconut fills his senses, and he feels less worried than before.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, folks. Sorry.


End file.
